In Between
by espinelli
Summary: "Yes, you will do nicely," he whispered, breath fanning across her face. His hands barely touching her side. She could feel his heat nonetheless "I will do no such thing, my lord prince." The laundry maid and the Red Viper, Isobel shook her head at the thought. No, that wouldn't do. She hadn't the time for princes with silver tongues. She did however have laundry, and lots of it.
1. Chapter 1

"Aliane, those linens were meant to be returned to the Swaith household earlier this hour were they not?"

The young girl cowed under Isobel's stare. Though Isobel's voice was soft, Aliane had worked long enough under Isobel's service to know her tone meant that she was in no position to weasel her way out of her duties, nor was she able to make excuses for herself. There was no point for Lady Isobel— "just, Isobel" as she firmly declared all those many moons ago, is too kind to lie to. Not like her lords and ladies before. Besides, she would surely catch her in her lie, she always does.

"Yes Isobel, they were." She mumbled, eyes slanted down and wringing her hands through the aforementioned sheets and deeper into the cleaning tub.

Isobel raised a perfectly plucked brow, her arms crossed against her chest. Isobel was quite fond of Aliane, handpicking her from the orphanage herself after being tossed there from her previous household. However, she mused, fondness did not run a business, nor did it furnish the bedrooms of her clients and their households. Though she did wonder the reason for the delay. Miss Aliane was handpicked for a reason. She was quick, efficient, and knew the work like she was born to do it. Though the lowborn were all born to do it she supposed.

"Is there a reason for the delay? The arrival of great households did not distract you, I hope. You did promise me you would take care of another load in Rhosin's place." Isobel crossed the cleaning room all the while folding up her sleeves and tying her unadorned and unbraided hair into a neat bun. Rhosin, her senior laundry lady had fallen pregnant once more and just had her fourth child. With three younger children not more than five years older, Isobel had temporarily dismissed Rhosin on a paid leave. There were things more important than the sheets of lords and ladies. Although Isobel has yet to know these things herself. Sitting next to her charge she grabbed the damp bedsheets and pinned them quickly onto the drying line, _one, two, three. _Like clockwork the two worked in tandem as Aliane explained quickly, her voice an octave higher than usual.

"But did you see them Isobel? The houses of red, yellow and orange? A prince rides with them, that's what Lady Mery said. Can you imagine that, Isobel? A prince!" Her smile bright and her eyes brighter. Isobel sighed and smiled softly, for Aliane was a child of nine. Too young to understand the ways of the world. Young enough to dream of fair princes turned kings and knights of honour. Pushing the line out, looking to the streets of children like her Aliane below she wonders when she will forget these romantic dreams though desperately hoping she does not.

Though Isobel knew the prince was not of honour. Yes, an exotic prince, he was. She was referring to Prince Oberyn of course. A prince of faraway lands and beautiful palaces. Spices as hot as the deserts he hails from. Was Aliane old enough to hear of the Red Viper? No, she quickly decided. Aliane's princes were all fair and kind and not the proud father of eight bastards.

"Do we not have a prince and a king here, Aliane?" While Isobel knew Aliane was a child of romantic notions and wonder, she knew King Joffrey would hear these words as treason. For a child should not dream of any more princes and kings beyond those of King's Landing. Isobel had seen people become killed for words just the same and even less. She witnessed the King's shrieks of "Kill them ALL!" firsthand, after a voice had deemed him a bastard in these very streets the children below played cat and mouse in. As dreams came easy to sweet Aliane, cruelty came quicker to King Joffrey. Aliane may die of childbirth, or sickness, or old age, the hand of the King would not do. Isobel would make sure of it.

"Yes, but this one is so different! I haven't seen him, but I peeked at the other lords and, _oh Isobel!_ They look just like you! Such dark colouring! Maybe one of the lords is your father!" Isobel only flinched slightly, though continued to pin the cloths. Yes, she admitted, they do look quite like me. Isobel witnessed their entering herself. It was foolish of her to waste precious time scrutinizing Dornishmen, but her mother once told her she had a Dornish father. It was only slightly confirmed today as she watched the men from afar. Dark hair and darker eyes. Forever sun kissed skin despite the layers of fine cloth to protect them from the heat. Isobel saw no women, but she knew she would match them as well. Her looks were not from her mother and her ivory skin and hair of golden light. She had her brown eyes and stubborn streak and not much else. What she received from her father, she would never truly know. Her questions would remain unanswered though, as they have been for years and years. There was no father to answer any and no mother to confirm them regardless. Besides, a woman of twenty-two had no business to dream of fathers from far away lands, let alone princes. She had neither the time or patience. But she did have laundry. Lots of it.

"Maybe he is. Maybe he is not. Regardless, you must keep your foolishness silent if you would like to keep it. We needn't marvel at the royals beyond our King and you must ensure your words reflect that. Gods forbid we end up like the Starks, or Old Heren."

Remembering the old man who had once sung every morning to her and the rest of the orphan children run down like a dog by a knight of the Kingsguard, Aliane stopped smiling.

"I will keep it silent then, Isobel." she mumbled, standing up to fold the dry linens which came in through the bottom line. Though she continued to think of the strange lords and their brightly coloured dress and chests of gold.

Isobel's smile turned into a slight frown. "For your safety and mine, you must." As Aliane folded the last on the brightly coloured linens, she placed them into the appropriate basket as Isobel placed the soaps back into their place and called for another team of maids to replace the water. Shaking her hair free of the now out of place bun and of dreams of fathers and thoughts of princes, she turned to Aliane, basket in hand.

"Be sure you run by the Swaith household after dropping those linens off and apologize. Inform them their linens will be a few hours late due to the rush brought on by the King's wedding. Be sure to ask if they need help in their household in the meantime. I am certain Lady Swaith will ask you to oversee Lady Mer's dress fitting. You know colours best, you know." Isobel smiled again, as she was always quick to do so.

This earned a beam from Aliane. Lady Swaith was a kind woman though her Lord was not. Her daughter, around Aliane's age, had taken to showing off her dresses to Aliane and letting her try them on. This was all done is secret, Aliane assured, for as fair as the Lady was, she would not approve of an orphan bastard trying on the clothes of a little Lady. And if the kind Lady would not, Isobel was loathe to find out how the Lord would react. No one approves of an orphan bastard doing much, Isobel thought, her small smile quickly turning bitter. Though they can accomplish much regardless, she thought, looking upon her modest establishment, handing them to Aliane.

Double checking the linens, she froze at the familiar tag on the basket. Grabbing them firmly but gently out of the little one's hands she moves past Aliane and says, "Better not bring them over. You will be delayed as this household has too many beds to attend to. Head to Lord Swaith's straight away, go on now." Before Isobel could blink or even think of changing her mind, Aliane bends down in a quick curtsey and runs out the laundry house. Clucking softly, Isobel leaves right after. Let her be a child, she thinks. Weddings and gowns and wedding gowns will not come quickly nor kindly, if at all to sweet Aliane.

Looking to the tag on the heavy basket again, she let out a sigh and read aloud.

"Littlefinger's brothel."

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Please let me know what you think! I'm very new to creative writing and any feedback is welcomed :)


	2. Chapter 2

Isobel couldn't say that Littlefinger's brothel was her favourite place to attend to. But she also couldn't deny the business it brought her. Dozens of whores and lusting men brought her dozens more in coin each month. Debauchery sells; and is definitely worth its weight in gold. She had Petyr Baelish and his ambition to thank for the business. Isobel had built her reputation amongst the lower lords and ladies for her efficient service and more than handsome laundry maids at her disposal. Isobel and her girls kept linens, sheets, clothing, rugs and curtains in pristine condition. Whatever the lords and ladies of Westeros had, Baelish wanted it. It was not Isobel's place to question his arrogance— he had told her as much when they first started business. Baelish would have been quite the partner, Isobel mused, side-stepping children at play and narrowly missing the contents of a chamber pot hitting her from above. He offered of course, years ago, in his roundabout way and soft voice.

"Haven't you ever wondered, Isobel? How these lords and ladies and King and Queen plan for the rest of us? Perhaps you have some inkling, of course, attending to their most intimate places at most…..opportune times." Baelish almost seemed to be circling her as she gathered up used sheets into her hamper. Like a predator would his prey. Shame on him, Isobel thought, cringing at the wetter than most mess on the red sheets she knew she would have to painstakingly scrub—perhaps twice, over. It would have been a more convincing sell had he offered to help her. It was his girls' messes after all.

"I thought your business dealt with attending to their most intimate places m'lord. Not mine" Isobel said cheekily. Baelish managed to chuckle at that. Quick with her wits. A fine partnership indeed.

"But no, I never, m'lord. There's nothing about hemmed dresses and drunk recalls of war stories which interest me." She said airily, flitting around the room. She wasn't lying either. The games of lords and ladies and the King and Queen held no interest to her at all. Arguably, the interests of the lowborn didn't interest the highborn either, if her hearing while 'attending to their most intimate places' was correct. No, she would focus on her business and keeping her head afloat. Enough food for the week and a bit to spare was all she ever wanted. She would not gamble with what little she had.

"It's _my _lord, Isobel. If you're going to pretend you aren't a lowborn bastard, do not speak like one." He said with his soft voice. Isobel winced nonetheless at this as she gathered the last of the linens. He knew how to play the game. Reminding her of her place should have invoked a submissive response out of her. Though as hurtful as his comment was, perhaps he had a point. Why remind those who needn't know of her upbringing? Especially if there were slight ways to mask it. But Petyr Baelish would not make a fast friend out of Isobel Waters, not after that blatant attempt to disregard her. She was the daughter of Alys Waters and a successful woman in her own right. She would not be intimidated by a man, especially one like him. Turning to face him with the basket in hand she gathered the last of the linens and what confidence she had left.

"Speak plainly then, _my lord_. What is it you are asking of me?" Isobel said this in a shockingly accurate ladylike manner. Her voice was hard and her eyes were dark, though she kept her airs about her. She would be a great lady of the court if the circumstances of her birth were different. Baelish smirked at her and moved towards her, slowly and purposefully and close enough that not a soul could hear them if they tried. He could remove evidence of her circumstances if she asked him to. If they did business. She knew this and he knew this, yet she lacked ambition.

"My _lady, _I need information—"

"You will not find that here with me, I'm sorry." She cut him off quickly, curtseying all the while. Her heart pulsed quickly under the implications of this job and all the jobs that would come after, she knew. No, she would not involve herself higher above her station. She would work and she would survive with what little she had like her mother before her. The dragons thought they were infallible. She was no dragon. Baelish would do his dirty work on his own time, not hers. Though she would never say that to him. Business was business after all.

He bowed slightly and mechanically at her, keeping the light smile on his face. Though she knew she had angered him. But what did the Master of Coin have to lose in this proposition compared to her? And there were hundreds of little birds. One more wouldn't have made a difference. Though Isobel would have been a precious bird.

"My lady." He said as a farewell. Isobel took that as a cue to leave and briskly headed towards the door. The hamper heavy in her arms she took a swift look around. He was still looking out, towards the window, his back to her. Her heart was still beating fast. She took a breath in and straightened her spine once more.

"It's Isobel, my lord." She left the brothel quickly after that. Never giving him the chance to respond.

* * *

She tried to keep the rest of her interactions with Littlefinger at pleasantries as much as possible. If Isobel heard words from lords and ladies that would even remotely be considered courtly gossip, she would send a different maid to attend to the brothel. Never Aliane, though.

While they keep to pleasantries, Littlefinger would corner her in the way he did their first _other _business interaction. Isobel learned quickly. Isobel's maids were paid and treated well enough to not be swayed by his advances. They, very much like her, wanted to keep them and their own fed and warm at night. They knew too many women, too many of his whores who suffered when he ran out of kindness. Especially in the previous years, the land being wasted by wars and kings who were not kings.

Isobel was granted quick entry to the brothel. The women who were not attending to business gave her big smiles and high pitched hellos. These women were kind to her and even kinder to Aliane. She would offer them a place with her, if Littlefinger wouldn't have seen that as an insult. No, she would not risk her livelihood this way. But she would always offer warm smiles and little leftover treats from the lords and ladies homes. And so the women loved her as she loved them. If Baelish wasn't there and they weren't busy, they would talk the afternoon away and laugh at the clients and their antics. Baelish wasn't here, and today was slow. Yet Isobel did not stop for a chat this afternoon. There was too much work to do, and besides, she hadn't met Olyvar. She doesn't know what he would do or say if catching her being a distraction.

The place was slower than most days. She thought the influx of households would yield the opposite as it did for her, but what did she know of this type of business. She carefully scanned through doors and curtains and changed sheets as she went. Through trial and error, she learned that knocking wouldn't cut it. Locked doors and closed curtains were common sense. But some days, peering in and scarring herself would have to do. But today was slow. She may get to leave this place with incident, she thought happily, stuffing used linens outside the door's hamper. It was a beautiful day out, she might take Aliane to the market for a late treat. Carrying the last few sheets with sunshine and Aliane in mind, she quickly walked into the larger of the rooms, cut off by large curtains.

She should have known.

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**AN:** Whoops, y'all thought this would be the chapter, huh? Sorry to be a tease, but I think Isobel is too cool to not write more about. Thank you for the lovely comments and the follows and favourites! Would getting to 10 reviews before I post the next chapter be a bit of a stretch?

Have a great rest of your week! :)


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